


Working Toward Informed Consent

by 1shinymess (magpie4shinies)



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Intoxication, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-03
Updated: 2011-09-03
Packaged: 2017-10-23 09:28:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/248785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magpie4shinies/pseuds/1shinymess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Originally posted as a fill on the suitsmeme as <a href="http://suitsmeme.livejournal.com/1110.html?thread=4438#t4438">Working Up to Informed Consent</a>. The prompt was "Mike makes for a very affectionate, handsy drunk. What Harvey does, when he's confronted with a lapful of cuddly associate, is completely up to anon."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Working Toward Informed Consent

**Author's Note:**

> Set early first season, between E2: Errors and Omissions and E5: Bail Out.

"I want to help," Mike tells Harvey. "Can I help?"

"I don't know, can you make a fist without needing to think about it?"

"What kind of test is that?" Mike asks. "No really, I want to help." He navigates the living room carefully, crossing the surprisingly unsteady floor, to where Harvey is sorting depositions into some archaic system Mike doesn't recognize when he's sober, let alone...now. But still.

"I'm good at this," Mike says, putting a hand down on some of the papers and sliding a little. He rights himself and--after a dark look from Harvey--quickly removes his hand off of the papers in case he actually bites him. "Reading. Highlighting. It's why you hired me. My brain. And highlighting."

"While your talents with a yellow marker were previously going to waste, right now, you're more useless than anything else. I can't believe you're wasted after three shots."

Mike frowns fiercely at him. "Doubles," he corrects. And then adds, "I'm not drunk!"

"You really are. It was vodka. I will torment you about this tomorrow," Harvey shifts a little on the stool and straightens his stack out. "We'll have to build up your tolerance to good liquor so you can drink with clients."

Mike takes a few minutes to think about that. While he does, Harvey continues sliding the depositions into his pile of already sorted paperwork.

He has the best job ever, Mike decides.

"And we're hugging," Harvey said, sounding sort of surprised and sort of like he'd been expecting it.

Mike nods happily into his shoulder. He pulls back. "I have the best job in the world," he explains. "You made it happen. You're my favorite."

Harvey gets a hand on Mike's shoulder and presses warningly when Mike tries to go in for another hug.

"Do you work out?" Mike asks, squeezing along his bicep. "Wow, you totally do. You're really firm!"

"Usually my dates make me buy them dinner before they get the honor of realizing that," Harvey says, frowning at Mike. "You're easy."

"I really am," Mike admits. "I've been trying to show you, at least. I didn't think you'd noticed."

"What?"

Mike looks at him with distinct relief. " _Louis_ noticed. And Louis doesn't wear a _towel_ , man. It's weird."

"I wish I could be sure we were still having the same conversation," Harvey says, leaning his other arm onto the table and resting his chin in his palm.

"Sure we are!" Mike says, smiling. "I'm easy, we can have sex and I can stop throwing myself at you at work."

"...is that why you started leaving your jacket off in the office?"

"You _did_ notice," Mike smiles and pats Harvey's shoulder briskly, since he still can't hug him. "Jacket's going back on first thing tomorrow: somebody grabbed my ass yesterday."

"Someone _grabbed your ass_?" Harvey repeats in a strangled tone. "At a _law firm_?"

Mike nods. "I didn't see. Wasn't you."

"No, I'm reasonably sure I would've noticed if I'd taken to groping you at work. But thanks for keeping me informed."

"You're welcome!" Mike says, smiling. "So can we have sex now?"

Harvey looked at him thoughtfully and deliberately dropped the hand restraining Mike. "You've been trying to get my attention. For...a week, give or take?"

Mike nods. "Since the Costa arbitration."

"A week and a half, then," Harvey corrects.

Mike smiles. "You have brown eyes."

"...that's true."

"They're my favorite."

"I'm your favorite," Harvey says slowly, like he's testing a new fact, and Mike nods quickly.

"You are!" he says quickly, leaning forward.

Harvey stands to meet him, so the hug happens a little sooner than Mike expects it to. That's fine, he can work with it.

"If we're going to sleep together, you're going to be sober. The first time, at least."

Mike frowns a little, since that sounds sort of like it means 'no sex.'

"It means no sex tonight, princess," Harvey says and Mike stares at him with wide eyes.

"Did you just _read my mind_?" he asks, and tucks himself up against Harvey's side. "You're _amazing._ "

"My working ears thank you, you lightweight," Harvey mutters. "Couch is this way: you can move to the bed when you can give me officially informed consent."

Mike's hold around Harvey's waist tightens even as he tows Mike toward his couch. He lets Harvey drop him off there and stays put until he brings back a blanket.

"Oh, my God, are you pouting? What's wrong now?"

Mike looks at him sadly as he takes the blanket. "I wanted to sleep with you."

"I don't believe this. What is this even--" Harvey mutters and cuts himself off, snatching the blanket back from Mike and throwing it over the back of the couch. "We're _just_ sleeping, understand. Come on. God, you are going to pay for this when you're sober."

"You can spank me," Mike offers, walking too close and bumping into Harvey's arm and not caring. "Is that a thing for you? We can do that."

Harvey turns on his heel and braces Mike since he has demonstrated inability to stop himself. "You like that?"

Mike shrugs. "Sure."

"Hm."

It's a promising start.


End file.
